


Chasing Gold Balloons

by Loverman8



Category: Naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 07:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30102507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loverman8/pseuds/Loverman8





	Chasing Gold Balloons

DAY: N/A

Discipline is critical to any dancer.

There’s training, of course, and constant exercise to stay fit. An intense and _dangerous_ diet— one in two ballet dancers suffer from an eating disorder, for god’s sake— demanding constant vigilance and attention. It’s expensive, it’s exhausting, it’s an entire life of effort. And work. Physical injuries are par for the course and dancers are expected to work through the pain, over the pain, on top of it until they see nothing but the instructor in front of them, feel nothing but their muscles working and twisting and bending.

It’s not easy.

There’s no real way to force someone to do it, either. A lot of parents try. They dream of seeing their babies as stars, as Prima Ballerinas, taken by the glamor and beauty of it all - and it is beautiful. They drag their children to lessons, rehearsals. They spend enormous amounts of money on costumes and hair product (it’s hard to keep hair in that tight bun!) and eventually scream at teachers about how “their talented darling deserved that part!” But it doesn’t work, because it’s _too much work_ to be a good dancer if you don’t love it.

Aelia wasn’t good. She was _great_.

She worked all day, every day, until she was so sore she could barely move. And then she did it all again the next day. She bought toe shoe after toe shoe - honestly, she spent so much time breaking in shoes that it had become a calming ritual. Almost like meditation. She stretched until she had perfect tilts on both sides, because she refused to be one of those dancers that was only flexible on the right, because that was _lazy_. Laziness meant stagnation and that was worse than death.

Mediocrity was worse than death to her even then. Why live if you weren’t going to do anything with it?

So she worked! It was her whole life. She hadn’t had time for relationships, for boys or girls— little interest in candle-lit dinners or movies or picnics. Instead, Aelia stayed in that studio until she was the only one left. Until it was dark and silent except for the sound of her breathing and the slapping of her pointe shoes on the floor. She made few friends, because of her intense schedule - it simply wasn’t worth compromising her training time for “socializing”. Other children were boring.

When she was younger, many of her peers thought she would let up a bit eventually. Her parents had certainly wanted her to. Go to a good school, get a well-rounded education, etc— fulfill the basic requirements of a decent life. She was quite intelligent, even considered a genius by some (she didn’t refute them), and could have made a good living that way.

It had never even crossed her mind.

Even at that young age, she’d known exactly what she wanted. Ballet, after all, wasn’t rare in Russia; you could throw a stone in any direction and hit a dancer. None of them was as good as her, though. They didn’t care like she did.

She had taken dance classes for years, but it wasn’t enough. So, she dragged her mother to St. Petersburg in order to audition for a prestigious dance school, Vaganova Academy of Ballet. She was less than enthusiastic, but Aelia was insistent. She danced round after round of audition, stretched, even stripped naked to have her physique examined. She jumped and spun as well, and tried her best to do it all with a pleasant expression. Unfortunately, her resting face was quite stern. Not very charismatic. Ugh. She held her limbs still and prayed no one could see any shaking.

Against all odds, she got in. It had been such a rush when she’d heard - she smiled so widely it hurt. Of course she had been terrified.

Beating out hundreds of other applicants was a good start- it was certainly amazing for the ego- but but wasn’t enough. She had to be better. She had to be the best.

Being shipped off to a boarding school wasn’t the scariest thing her parents could think of but it was pretty close. St. Petersburg was fairly far from her home town (village?) and she had no one there.

She was determined to go regardless.

When she got there, she was understandably nervous- after all, she was up against people who had been training like this for years! Only some students graduated even if they were accepted- if the teachers didn’t see progress, you were dismissed. End of story. And she worried about her body; was she skinny enough? Too muscular? Would the proctors point and whisper about her shaking legs and arms? The nervousness, though, made way for interest soon enough.

She studied _adagio_ and _allegro_ (her favorite - with allegro she could _fly)_ , but her education wasn’t limited to positions alone. Her teachers taught her everything there was to know about movement, including the eyes, face, hands, and arms. She learned about music and music theory as well, which was a pleasure; Aelia loved music. It really was beyond.

Her parents were happy to know she didn’t _only_ learn ballet. Unfortunately, apparently it was considered necessary that she become proficient in many subjects - history, literature, biology, chemistry, algebra, geography, and even other languages! She studied so much it was a wonder there was any time to sleep.

She adored it there. She had never felt more at home training every day.

It was no wonder she shot to the top of the class with how hard she worked - not to mention her own talent. Everyone had always said there was more to being a Prima Ballerina than just dancing; it took the right talent, skill, looks, and charisma.

She was pretty secure in the look department; her deep-red hair was beautiful, but her best feature was her eyes. Light green, clear almost like stained glass, they were large on her face. She had very angular bone structure and a ballerina’s muscles. Charisma was harder to achieve, considering she was quite the solemn girl, but she loved dance and it showed. Soon enough, she was signed to a ballet company.

She didn’t slow down. She _couldn’t_ slow down.

She lived her life that way, dancing and training until she couldn’t see two feet in front of her and her knees had buckled from exhaustion. She worked to have total control over every muscle in her body, as to manipulate it exactly the way she wanted. It took years of her life, decades even— dance was everything she was and everything she wanted.

—

It was the discipline that stayed when she died.

—

It was, quite frankly, a ridiculous death, and not one she thought she’d ever meet. She thought once that she’d grow old and was disgusted by it - she thought she’d have hoards of children or else none. Thought that she’d spend every last drop of her life on a stage and then she might teach (never mind that she’d hated children even when she _was_ one) or retire peacefully (ugh). She thought she’d travel the world; not just because of dance recitals or performances but because she wanted to see everything there was to see.

Only one of those things happened.

She had been performing _Don Quixote,_ working through her Kitri turns, when an overhead light support beam fell. It wouldn’t have been a problem except for those turns, those turns that propelled me across the stage in a matter of seconds. Right into the beam’s path. Crash, bang, and suddenly it was all dark.

That was it.

An obscenely stupid end, a support beam _fell on her head_ , but an end nonetheless. Wrap it up, the show’s over, nothing to see here folks- and yet Aelia was still contending with her internal monologue.

What was going on?

She believed in a vague afterlife, nothing like any organized religion (if there was some higher being, it was unlikely they maintained a vested interest in the inner workings of humanity) but something after death all the same. It was disheartening to think you only got one opportunity to exist before fading into oblivion, after all.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh, absolutely not.

There was no way she would be reincarnated.

…right?


End file.
